Page 16 of A Duchess Untouched

Matthew raised the pistol, focusing on a rotting pinecone. He steadied his breath, annoyed at the unusual tremor in his fingers. The pistol fired. White smoke ejected from it, and the pinecone exploded. Matthew was glad he had not lost his touch.

Maximus knew just what to do. The moment the pinecone was shot, he surged forward, ready to claim his prize. He knew the game well. He needed to retrieve the pinecone for his master before he could receive his treat.

Matthew did not immediately reload. Instead, he lowered the smoking barrel. His mind was not completely on his activity. He used to enjoy firing his pistol at random objects for Maximus to retrieve. His dog still loved this game, bounding back to him with the pinecone. However, Matthew’s mind was elsewhere.

It was on his wife.

He was surprised at the effect she had on him. Despite his efforts to banish thoughts of her, the images became even more vivid. Even the feel of her was still underneath his fingers, with her pulse still thrumming against his palm. And her lips… He could still recall the feel of her lips on his, and everything put together was a nightmare. He had been so close to losing control…

Four years ago, he had thought it safe to marry someone like Selina Quinten. He had thought that she was just like any of the vapid, pretty girls who frequented balls. She was polite and friendly, often in the midst of clusters of conversations. His mother had thought of her as a porcelain doll.

“She would make you such beautiful children, Matthew,” the Dowager had predicted, not knowing that her son had other plans.

At the time, he had assumed she would wait for him without complaint. The woman he had returned to bore no resemblance to that expectation. She argued with him. She defied him outright. Whatever he had expected to find waiting at Wentley House, it was not her.

She was magnificent, and it was becoming a problem. His search for Robert’s child would only grow harder now that half his thoughts were occupied by his own wife. He would sit at his desk, ledgers open in front of him, and all he could think of was Selina bent over it, her skirts pushed up around her waist, her hands braced flat against the wood while he took her.

Matthew exhaled harshly. The cool air in his lungs reminded him where he was. He was practicing his shots with Maximus, and his mastiff whimpered, waiting for his little treat.

Matthew was aware that he could not afford to feel this way for Selina. He did not know how to play the role of a devoted husband. It would be unfair to start a family of his own until he had settled Robert’s affairs. He had even abandoned his rakish ways when he lost his brother. The world had been divided into the before and after Robert’s death, and he thought that he would live his life like a single-minded hunt.

Yet he had lost control with Selina all the same, and afterward told her plainly that he could not stay. He would leave again to look for Mary.

Leaving soon seemed the only answer. He would return to the inns and back roads that had become his life these past years. Even Maximus watched him now, ears pricked, as though he already knew what came next.

“Good boy,” Matthew praised, patting the dog’s head as he gave him a treat.

“It is good to know that your marksmanship has not suffered from your four years of self-imposed exile to God knows where, brother.”

Matthew whirled around and saw his younger brother, Oliver, standing at the edge of the terrace steps. He wore a heavy wool cloak. He always disliked cold weather, yet the morning was not even chilly. Before the Duke could say anything, Oliver closed the distance between them and threw his arms around Matthew’s shoulders. The embrace was unexpected but needed. He had missed his younger brother.

For a moment, though, Matthew stiffened. While he missed his family, he was no longer used to displays of physical affection. He had chosen to undergo a journey of isolation. For Robert. He did try to get his mind set on being the brother he should be, placing his pistol on a stone ledge so he could properly clap his younger brother on the back.

“Oliver…”

“Oh, look at you,” Oliver commented as his eyes searched his brother’s face. “You do not look like a duke at all. You look more like a mountain bandit, although it suits you. I missed you, brother.”

Matthew chuckled at that. He had shaved some of his beard, but he had a little stubble on his face once more. He probably had become some kind of mountain man.

“And I missed you, too, Oliver,” he responded honestly. He noticed that he looked leaner and thinner. It should have been the opposite. There was also a worrying pallor on his skin. Matthew’s insides twisted at the sight.

“I must warn you,” Oliver said with a faint laugh as he briefly glanced behind him. “Mother has been pacing the morning room. However, something tells me you already suspected that.”

“Ah, of course,” Matthew murmured. “She badly needs an heir to the line.”

“She does,” Oliver agreed, watching his brother curiously. “However, I want to assure you that I have no intention of taking your place in this. I have no interest in shouldering that burden, and I am certainly not interested in taking a wife and producing heirs to supplant yours.”

“I never thought you did, Oliver,” Matthew said, feeling warmth rising in his chest. “Still, I understand our mother. I have been married for four years, and nothing has come of it.”

Oliver responded with a cough. His chest seized, and he had to pull a handkerchief from his pocket to press to his mouth. A few more dry coughs racked his frame. Matthew watched and listened with alarm.

“Forgive me,” Oliver huffed, waving dismissively as if to reassure his brother of his condition.

“Is all well, Oliver? It seems to me that your cough has worsened. Do you need a doctor, or have you been seeing one already?”

“I have been seeing one,” Oliver reassured his brother. “I am mostly fine. I was advised to move to a warmer climate for a few months, but I feel great most of the time. Believe me. There is nothing for you to worry about.”

“If the doctor says you must stay somewhere warmer for now, obey his order,” Matthew declared. “I will arrange the funds to ensure your travel and accommodations are seen to properly. I hear Italy is quite hot this time of the year.”